I thought hearing the words you have cancer once was scary. When we heard them again when Bob was diagnosed it hurt, it tore my heart out, chewed it up and spat it out. Hearing you have cancer for the third time seems like a sick joke! But here I am sitting yet again in a hospital, in a hospital bed with my arse hanging out of a white hospital gown ( I must say I’m rocking the backless look) being poked and prodded every few hours, having blood drawn every 4 hours, gaining weight by the minute as I get fluids pumped into me at a rapid rate and being filled with antibiotics getting my body ready for the big dance!
Chemo! Again! Fucking chemotherapy! It is my only chance at beating the beast that has once again invaded my body but the thought of the poisons about to take over my whole being scares the shit out of me, it actually terrifies me. What it does to you is beyond what I can describe and this time around is going to be 10 times harder than I copped last time. Why do I need to do this again?? I don’t have a choice! I never say no to a challenge, I never back down and this fight is going to be my toughest yet but I’m going in. I have my armour on, my hands are up and I am surrendering to chemo.
My hair is going to fall out and I’m going to rock the bald bitch look. I won’t be wearing a wig, because apart from it feeling like a dead cat sitting on my head, baldness is my badge of honour. I’ve earnt the right to be bald, I’ve done the hard yards to be where I am at and if people are uncomfortable with that then that is their issue not mine. I am slightly annoyed I just paid to have my chin and lip waxed and my eyebrows tinted though … I’m about to get a chemical Brazilian so I suppose that’s a positive!
Now let’s get real. I’m pissed off! I’m not ok with the fact that I am here again, far from it! I hate to go away from my girls for a weekend, let alone have to walk away from my home, the job I love and my babies for over a month. I can’t pat my dogs, I can’t hug my surrogate grandkids (my neighbours), I can’t even lay next to my husband in my own bed, lay my head on my own pillow or get annoyed at my asshole cat who gets me up in the middle of the night to pat her just so she can eat! Cancer takes so much away from you. It disconnects you from the outside world and tries to break you.
It’s tried twice and it’s trying for a third time … but I’m not allowing it! I talk to myself in my room when I’m alone. I know what I’m about to face is going to be big and take all the energy I have to give and I need to start getting ready for this, so I need sleep. But the amount of steroids I am on is causing me to be awake. It gives me a lot of time to think and sometimes those thoughts aren’t great. It’s not that I want to think these thoughts, they just pop into my head and I need to constantly talk them away! If you walked into my room and listened you would think I’m crackers and on the wrong ward. There is constant self chat in between sobbing and tears that go a little like this “no!” Or “I’ve got this!” “You aren’t going to win” … you get the gist of it.
I have found if I go to sleep with the tv on or some music playing, my mind relaxes and I can drift off. If I am in complete silence the dark thoughts creep in. It is a constant battle to keep myself positive and heading in the right direction. This is a one way street. I’m only going forward, I can’t go back … I can’t even look back. I can’t even draw on my knowledge from last time because this is a completely new beast I am fighting. I’m pissed off but that is what’s driving me. I’m angry, it’s taken away everything I love and I’m not ok with that.
Saturday, I received a message from a neighbour of mine. It said:
I fought today in a karate tournament and I had your name written on my hand as a reminder of strength.
Won and I did it for you.
Keep being the superstar you are!
It’s moments like these that I know I have so many people in my corner, so I can’t give up! I look at the pics of my girls on the wall and I realise why I can’t give in. I look at Bob sitting in the corner silently reading or sleeping and know that I have to fight to come back and join him in our family of four. Three is an odd number and I won’t allow that! I can’t go anywhere, I just can’t!
So, I’m terrified. I’m pissed off and I’m shitting myself about entering this boxing ring, but I’m going in. I’m going in with my head held high, all 23 chins I have gained so far and my heart will be protected. Nothing will kill my spirit and nothing is going to stop me from beating cancer for the third time.
I still need you all in my corner! I still need you all to hold us up, me, Bob, Bree and Gemma. I need you all to circle us and keep our hearts full, our hearts safe and to hold our hands for a while longer yet.
I would love to cheers you and thank you all with a nice red wine, just one last one before the fight begins, but I’m trying to be good (for once) So … from the ONJ centre, level 7 room 28 … here’s cheers with my goon bag!
I’m still dreaming big!